


Window

by Beatlebitch



Category: John Lennon - Fandom, The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Conversations, F/M, New house, just met
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-12-17 02:13:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21046607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beatlebitch/pseuds/Beatlebitch
Summary: You've just moved in to your new home and you find that you live right next to where the most successful band in the world spend their time to relax and hang out.You and John get talking.





	1. Independence

Just as you were putting away the contents of the last moving box, you sat down on your bed and realised that you had your own house! Free to do what you pleased, no more mother telling you to go to bed or anything! Changing into more comfortable clothes, you picked up your old guitar and began to play one of your favourite songs to celebrate: "Here, There, Everywhere" by The Beatles. As your fingers skilfully slid across the fretboard you stared at your old Beatle posters, wondering what they would be up to by now. Probably at a party, being Beatle-like. People were normally surprised that a girl can play guitar. Always either amazed or intimidated. Both were getting old. In perfect time with the final note of your favourite melody a yawn filled your lungs lazily and you put your guitar back before curling up under the blankets.

The morning was very quiet. Sun dimly shone in through he grey curtains of the large window in your bedroom, still showing specks of hovering dust in the airless atmosphere. You swivelled your legs down to the smooth wooden floor as you grabbed at the ceiling strenuously while you sat on your bed. Open the curtains, clean your teeth, go downstairs, make some- ah.  
You appear to be breadless.  
Throwing on a coat and some short boots, you impulsively walked out of the door grabbing your keys out of your pocket. You should of locked the door last night but your mature habits were yet to come and a more important matter was at steak: bread. As you walked down the small path that lead to your house you noticed a large, expensive ford galaxie 500 turquoise convertible slanted on the pavement had appeared. You neighbors must be impossibly rich, why would they live here? Standing in the corner shop, your mind began to play with the thought of who might be your new neighbor.  
"Let's see." You thought to yourself. "Who would buy a car like that? Elton John?No.Not Flamboyant enough. Freddie Mercury? No. Not sexy enough. David Bowie? Getting warmer. I bet that's a total Elvis car." You chuckled to yourself as you grabbed the whole wheat bread.

As you Just as you were putting away the contents of the last moving box, you sat down on your bed and realised that you had your own house! Free to do what you pleased, no more mother telling you to go to bed or anything! Changing into more comfortable clothes, you picked up your old guitar and began to play one of your favourite songs to celebrate: "Here, There, Everywhere" by The Beatles. As your fingers skilfully slid across the fretboard you stared at your old Beatle posters, wondering what they would be up to by now. Probably at a party, being Beatle-like. People were normally surprised that a girl can play guitar. Always either amazed or intimidated. Both were getting old. In perfect time with the final note of your favourite melody a yawn filled your lungs lazily and you put your guitar back before curling up under the blankets.

The morning was very quiet. Sun dimly shone in through he grey curtains of the large window in your bedroom, still showing specks of hovering dust in the airless atmosphere. You swivelled your legs down to the smooth wooden floor as you grabbed at the ceiling strenuously while you sat on your bed. Open the curtains, clean your teeth, go downstairs, make some- ah.  
You appear to be breadless.  
Throwing on a coat and some short boots, you impulsively walked out of the door grabbing your keys out of your pocket. You should of locked the door last night but your mature habits were yet to come and a more important matter was at steak: bread. As you walked down the small path that lead to your house you noticed a large, expensive ford galaxie 500 turquoise convertible slanted on the pavement had appeared. You neighbors must be impossibly rich, why would they live here?Standing in the corner shop, your mind began to play with the thought of who might be your new neighbor.  
"Let's see." You thought to yourself. "Who would buy a car like that? Elton John?No.Not Flamboyant enough. Freddie Mercury? No. Not sexy enough. David Bowie? Getting warmer. I bet that's a total Elvis car." You chuckled to yourself as you grabbed the whole wheat bread

The day was longer than what you expected.  
Your mother came over, of course bearing gifts and droning on about living well in a new home etc. You had to go into town again to fetch some more food than bread and marmite and you wanted to have a wander around your new life. There really wasn't much there, a few charity shops and one guitar shop but that was about it. So, to treat yourself for future independence you bought yourself a new acoustic and she was beauteous. Made out of a fiery mahogany and copper strings, you immediately tuned her back up again and started to practise when you got back home to your room. You always played confidently, with considerate volume but you rarely sung. Playing many songs by The Beatles and Elvis "Heartbreak Hotel" and "Till there was you" echoed throughout your house with perfection, "Taxman" and "I feel fine" devoured your consciousness and it was like you were possessed. A puppet on a string. You felt the need to play one final song before visiting dreamland. "For no one" by The Beatles. Unlike the rest, you sang. You didn't really notice it, harmonious, quiet, soulfull music gently humming from your throat before falling asleep.


	2. Meet the Bealtles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god.

Whack!  
Whack!  
"OI, ARE YOU STILL HOME!?"  
After being jolted awake by pebbles almost smashing through your window, you realised that someone was screaming for you from the other house. Flinging your duvet off yourself you stumbled to the large, singular window in your room and pulled back the curtains only to see that they had shut the window, for you could only see two silhouettes jostling behind their glass. You soon made out that they had seen you and had... made a run for it? No, there was one shadow left. Wait, there must have been three for a single figure walked towards you slightly and seemed to be staring before walking away into the darkness of their room. Annoyingly, the sun was reflecting off their window and you couldn't see them but they could see you and you, must of looked like a train wreck.

The same routine occurred. Wake up slowly, pop out for a bit, come back and hang around. It was a terribly sweet day for the sun was almost perfect and there was no chill, only a cool breeze yet your suspicion still held aflame about that morning. And when you went to your kitchen to put your bag on the counted, your suspicion grew to curiosity as music blared from the opposing house. Now, if the house is DETACHED and you could still hear it, God knows how loud it must be in the actual house. But then you listened and you realised! They were playing The Beatles! You couldn't tell which song but their voices bellowed beyond belief, it was definitely rock and a smile slowly crawled up your cheeks. It was nice to know you had fans for neighbors. Putting your bag down, you jogged to your bathroom and you looked like a mess. Ruffled hair and oily skin, you turned on the hot water of your shower and stepped in after taking off your clothes and let the water run over you.

When you got out, the music had stopped. Dripping on a towel, you tread into your room and slipped on your pyjamas. Thin, but comfy as hell. Then power dried your hair before raking it down with a metal comb. It was later then what you had expected for the sky was a fluffy shade of pink, yet it was still too warm for your liking. Opening your window, you checked for cracks from the stones and there were no marks or breaks to be seen and you were feeling risky. Grabbing your loyal guitar, you sat on the window sill to breathe in that delicate summer evening air. Adjusting a little, you began to play. Quiet little songs that you began to hum to, now delicately plucking at the strings. No longer strumming like a mad man, but sensitivity caressing the thin metal spiderwebs.

A front door opened with a crash and three boys ambled out. They were your neighbors, you couldn't see them very well because of your elevation but they all had dark hair and they were foolishly pushing and shoving their way to the car you were admiring the other day (oh, so no Elvis?). Soon enough, before you could get a good look at them, they were speeding off down the street and making screeching noises behind them as they disappeared. 

As silence settled down, only the very faint chirp of crickets echoed within the grass of your small garden and you realised that the light pink clouds had now turned to a deep fuchsia hinted with orange streaks. It was all so-  
"So are you the voice we heard last night?"  
You whipped your head around to see a tall man with a pointed, angular nose and auburn hair Leaning on the window frame of the other house yet he gave you such a fright, you couldn't get a good look before you fell down too your floor. Catching your guitar with your chest as you landed on the floor with a smack, ow. You could hear a nasally laugh erupt from the other window as you sat back up, rubbing your elbow as you landed own the nerve quite heavily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh I'm so evil aren't I?


End file.
